You're Really Here
by EquestrianCSI
Summary: Lindsey doesn't think she can testify at the trial. Until Danny does the unexpected. I've no connections to CSI:NY whatsoever
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER; Still have nothing to do with CSI: NY or any of the characters, plots, storylines, blah blah. This is my little fic. **

Lindsey Monroe had been emotionally drained from testimony in the case against the monster who'd slaughted her best friends in that diner so long ago. She'd wound up so upset, that court had been adjourned. She'd felt so jittery and keyed up, that she spent the rest of the day weeding her mother's flowerbed that bordered the back of the white farmhouse. When night came, Lindsey went to bed early, knowing that she'd have to appear in court again the following morning, and hoping to high Heaven she could get through it this time.

_In her dream, the courtroom seemed to be shrinking, and Lindsey felt the urge to run as fast as she could. But why? Everything looked normal. The proscecuting attorney was presenting his case, the judge was sleeping..sleeping? _

_Whatever, don't judges sleep through court anyway? Her old dog Buster lay against the jury box, snoring in his sleep as usual. But he'd been dead for years. Somehow that didn't matter either. What did matter was the fact that Lindsey felt so panicked; as if something bad were going to happen. Then, she saw it. The glint of sunlight on steel. Looking over toward the table where the suspect sat, she saw that he had a shotgun resting on his lap. The same shotgun he'd used to butcher her friends. Lindsey jumped up from the witness stand, and raced across the room as fast as she could, but her feet felt as though they were mired in thick, viscous glue. She looked down to see that her clothes were splattered with blood; the blood of her friends. It just wouldn't ever leave!_

_She worked to run faster, but her legs were so heavy. The suspect was chasing her; yelling about things that made no sense. Suddenly, Lindsey saw Danny waving at her from the middle of Times Square. Now, how did she get there? Screaming, still being chased by the madman with the shotgun, Lindsey ran toward Danny. But Danny just stood there smiling; the suspect was running faster, and getting closer..._

Lindsey awoke with a start; her pulse racing and her breath coming in short, quick gasps. The window was in the wrong spot and the bedroom door was shut. Then she remembered that she was sleeping in her old room at her parent's place in Montana.

She was drenched with sweat, and her heavy flannel nightgown was stuck to her damp skin. Punky, her old black cat that she'd had since junior high, inched his way into her lap where he purred as she stroked his glossy fur. He was ancient, and she had been surprised that he was still alive. But now, she was glad to have something tangible and familiar in the darkness of the room.

"I don't think I can go through with it, Punk." She told the aging cat.

As if in quiet sympathy, Punky reached up and patted her cheek with his paw. Lindsey smiled, but tears were pricking the back of her eyes.

"I wish I could go back to New York, back to working at the lab with Danny, and not have to do this anymore." She felt childish and stupid, and wished she could throw a good old fashioned temper tantrum.

Sighing, she stared at the telephone sitting on the nightstand. It was still the same silly Garfield phone one of her friends had given her so long ago; before that dreadful night. Now, she reached for it, and dialed a familiar number. The clock beside the phone read Midnight; and she knew it was even later in New York. She must be crazy, she thought, as she counted the rings. Finally, a husky male voice, rough with sleep, answered.

"Yo," Danny mumbled, and Lindsey took a deep breath.

"Danny," she queried, her voice trembling, and her eyes filling with tears.

"Linds? That you? What's up?" Danny rattled off the questions, not giving her time to answer them individually.

"Danny, I don't think I can do this," Lindsey told him, biting her lip to keep from crying.

"I had this dream, that the suspect was after me, and I couldn't get away and I was running and..." Her words were spilling over each other as she spoke, and Danny couldn't understand her at all.

"Whoa, whoa, Montana!" He said, sitting up in his own bed so far away.

"Listen, you calm down for me, all right?" He took a deep breath, and Lindsey wondered how pissed he was at her for waking him.

"You can do this, do you hear me? I know you. You're strong, and when you got your mind set on something, you don't let go very easily." He paused, and she waited.

Punky curled himself into a furry warm ball in her lap, prepared for a long night of chatter from his favourite human. To him, there was nothing to worry about.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER; Still have nothing to do with CSI: NY or any of the characters, plots, storylines, blah blah. This is my little fic. **

Danny Messer dressed quickly as he threw items of clothing into a large duffel bag he'd dragged out of the closet.

"You're nuts, Messer," he said to himself, glancing again at the clock.

He'd only been on the phone with Lindsey for ten minutes; she'd insisted that it was wrong of her to call him so late at night, and she was just being a fool for being so upset over the trial. But Danny didn't feel that way. He'd been pleased that she'd called him, of all people, when she needed to talk, and his decision had been made. Besides, he'd never been to Montana before.

Shrugging into his grey windbreaker, Danny picked up his keys and headed for the door. He knew he could catch a red-eye flight to Billings, if he hurried. The only hitch was, could he get there in time for the trial? It resumed at ten am Montana time, and Danny was sure he could; if the Fates were feeling generous. Taking a cab, and taking advantage of the ride to the airport to close his eyes and relax, Danny wondered what Lindsey would think of his just showing up. Unannounced, unplanned, and unsure what was going to happen. She'd never talked about her past, but Danny had a feeling he was about to find out.

"Where are you goin'?" The cab driver's voice cut through his reverie.

"Billings," Danny replied, and the cabbie nodded.

"Beautiful country from what I hear. Beats the city anyday. Got anyone special there?" The cabbie was just making conversation and Danny grinned, but said nothing.  
Oh, yeah; there was someone very special in Montana, and he couldn't wait to see her.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER; Still have nothing to do with CSI: NY or any of the characters, plots, storylines, blah blah. This is my little fic. **

The courtroom was packed with people waiting to see if the man responsible for the murder of four high school girls over a decade earlier would be found guilty or innocent. For Lindsey, it was a nightmare turned reality. She'd hoped to never again have to be in the same room with the man who murdered her friends in cold blood. But new evidence had surfaced, and here she was. The prosecuting attorney gave Lindsey a reassuring smile, but it didn't help any at all. The baliff stepped forward.

"All rise," he intoned, his deep voice ringing through the room.

Lindsey stood, her knees shaking beneath her.

"_All pass out cold,"_ Lindsey thought to herself, and sat down when the judge sat.

Little did she know that Danny was only fifteen minutes away, running across the parking lot at the Billings airport toward the rental car he'd just paid for.

Meanwhile, Danny unlocked the door of the green Bonneville he'd been assigned. Not his type of car, but it would do for today. Throwing his bag into the passenger seat, he slid in and started the engine. Driving up to the toll gate, Danny pulled some loose change out of his pocket. The man in the booth leaned out. He tall and thin with a tan Stetson perched on his head, and Danny thought he'd be better suited on one of Montana's big ranches Lindsey always talked about.

"A dollar seventy-five," sir, he told Danny, and took the five Danny handed him.

"Lemme get your change, just a second.." the man said, but Danny waved his hand.

"Keep it," he said, and drove off as the red-striped barrier gate rolled away.

The man watched in surprise as Danny sped away, and scratched his head.

"Thanks for the tip," he hollered, waving.

Danny drove onto the highway. A helpful skycap had taken the time to write directions to the courthouse on a piece of paper, and now Danny glanced over it quickly, finding his way through the morning traffic. His watch read 2:15 New York time, and the clock on the dash read 12:45. Either way, he was late, and as he took the downtown exit, Danny sighed. Lindsey was probably on the stand right this minute, and he was afraid he was already too late.

The clock on the wall read a quarter past ten, and Lindsey still hadn't been called back to the stand. There had been a delay while one of the jurors took an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom.  
_"Probably clipping his nose hair,"_ Lindsey thought, and took a sip of the water from the glass in front of her.

Finally, the tardy juror arrived and settled into his seat, and the trial began. Lindsey listened to the prosecutor reiterate why they were there; her head throbbing. Across the room, at the defense table, sat the man who was on trial. Lindsey glanced at his lap, remembering the shotgun he'd held in her dream the night before. She breathed an audible sigh of relief to see that he was unarmed, of course.

"Prosecution calls Lindsey Monroe," the attorney said, and Lindsey jumped, her reverie broken.

The walk to the stand took her right past the defendant, and she felt physically sick. This was the man that had taken her friends; this was the man that had overlooked her. By some twist of fate, Lindsey had been spared. She'd tried to forget, but now was forced to remember. She answered the prosecuter's questions clearly, describing how she'd peeked through the bathroom door and seen the killer, covered in blood, standing in the diner.

"Is the man you saw in this room?" The attorney asked, just as the door to the courtroom opened.

Lindsey was startled to see Danny slip in and take a seat near the back of the room. He caught her eye, and gave her one of his cocky grins. Lindsey was speechless, and the attorney repeated his question. Danny nodded encoragingly.

"Yes," Lindsey began, her heart fluttering in her chest,

"He's sitting right there, in the grey suit."

She tore her eyes from Danny long enough to look the defendant straight in the face, and was slightly amused to see that he had to look away.


End file.
